The Advintures of Jimmy Nutrin
by Kinola
Summary: When a family tragedy strikes, a young boy named Jimmy Nutrin goes out to find his place in his surrealistic world. Based on and inspired by "The Jimmy Neutron Happy Family Happy Hour" on Youtube. (Currently W.I.P.)
1. The Pizza is Aggressive

**The Jimmy Neutron Happy Family Hour was created by seinfeldspitstain. **

* * *

It was a warm, sunny afternoon in Retralville. Inside the Nutrin household, Jimmy Nutrin was sitting on the couch, watching television. Just then, Mrs. Nutrin and Mr. Nutrin walked into the room. Mrs. Nutrin smiled at her son, while Mr. Nutrin gazed at her with a blank look.

"Hello, Jimmy, I love you," she said sweetly in her monotonous voice. "I am going to make a delicious dinner meal. What would you like?"

Jimmy opened his mouth to speak, but before he could even get a word out, he heard a loud _BANG!_ behind him. He turned his head around to find his darling mother lying on the floor with a hole in her head. Mr. Nutrin stood before her, a gun in one hand. His expression was still blank, but Jimmy noticed a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he stared at his wife's lifeless body.

After a moment, Mr. Nutrin turned to face his son.

"Well, Jimmy, your mom is dead," he said casually in his monotonous voice. "I want you to do an order of pizza for dinner."

Jimmy stared at his father, slack-jawed. He wanted to run out of the house and find his robot dog Goodord (so he could help his master escape), but worried about whether his father would shoot him if he tried this stunt. So, hoping to appease his father, he got up and said, "Okay, Daddy."

He walked over to the phone and dialed up the pizza place. "Hello? Can I get a pizza pie for the Nutrin household?" His lips did not move in synch with the words coming out of his mouth.

"Yes, you can," a monotone voice said on the other line. "What would you like as toppings?"

Jimmy stuck out his lower lip and stared into space for a moment before glancing over at his father. The big-nosed man was still standing over his mother's corpse. Blood had gushed from the head wound, covering her face and the floor with the icky red life liquid.

"Little boy?" the monotone voice asked on the other like. "What would you like as toppings?"

"All the toppings you have," Jimmy answered.

"Okay. That will be $345.63. Your pizza will be arriving at your house shortly. Have a nice day." Jimmy hung up.

Jimmy Nutrin stood staring blankly at the phone. He then became aware of a pair of large, sausage-sized fingers placed gently on his shoulders, and a large honker poking gently into his swirly hair. When he turned, he saw his father's big black eyes gazing into his crystal blue ones.

"Now it is time for some father-son bonding," Mr. Nutrin announced. "Bond with me, Jimmy."

"No thank you, Daddy," Jimmy said, a bit nervously.

Mr. Nutrin held the gun that was used to kill Mrs. Nutrin to his son's face. His eyes became the size of soccer balls. "I said bond with me, Jimmy. **Bond with me.**"

* * *

_Fifteen minutes later..._

Jimmy and his daddy were now sitting comfortably on the couch watching television. Mr. Nutrin had one hand on his son's shoulder, and the other held the gun and had it aimed at his son's chest. He was content with how he managed to get his way. Jimmy sat quietly, not doing or saying anything so as not to anger his demented father. Jimmy's heart soared when he heard the doorbell ring.

The pizza was here.

"Daddy, I have to get the door," Jimmy said. "Our pizza pie is here."

Mr. Nutrin nodded and let Jimmy go. "I will be waiting for you, my lovely son."

Jimmy walked to the door, careful to not step on his mother's corpse. The bleeding had stopped, but the blood had formed a puddle beneath his mother's head and torso. The bug-eyed boy opened the door to see the delivery boy holding a box of pizza in his four tentacle arms.

"Here is your pizza," the delivery boy said, holding the box out to him. His voice was also a monotonous one. "Now you must pay me."

"But I don't have any monies," Jimmy said, his lips still not moving properly to the words he spoke. "Plus, my mom is dead. My daddy killed her and wants me to bond with him."

"It is not my problem," the delivery boy said dismissively. "Pay me, or the pizza will attack."

"Attack?" Jimmy wondered out loud. It was then that he noticed the name of the pizzeria that he'd ordered from on top of the box, along with its slogan: **Wacky Willy's Vitalized Pizza Pies; "If you don't pay right away, our pizzas will come out to play! (as in, they will attack and kill you)."**

Poor Jimmy didn't get the chance to do anything, for at that very moment, the pizza box opened, and the pizza pie lifted itself out of its container and shot across the room. It knocked into the wall, causing pictures to fall and crash into the ground. It flew into the kitchen, and the sound of china smashing on the marble floor reached Jimmy's ears. Then, the pizza hovered back into the family room.

Jimmy gaped at it. He turned back to the delivery boy, but he'd already fled, driving away recklessly in his pickup truck. When Jimmy turned back, the pizza was already swishing about the room at a steadily increasing speed. It took a moment for Jimmy to realize that the pizza was planning to kill his father.

A part of Jimmy wanted his daddy to die for what he did to his mother, but another part of him told the bug-eyed boy that the man was still his father, and that the only reason that he'd killed his mom was because he wanted to spend more time with his son. Without thinking, Jimmy raised an arm towards Mr. Nutrin.

"Look out, Daddy!" Jimmy cried. "The pizza is aggressive."

Still sitting, Mr. Nutrin turned his head around, but only had a second to react before the pizza sliced his head off. The head went flying and landed on the late Mrs. Nutrin's bosom. "Oh, shit," he muttered.

Both the boy and his daddy heard Mr. Nutrin's decapitated body tumbled to the ground, but their eyes were still on each other. The aggressive pizza, deciding that its work was done, floated back through the kitchen and out the window. It kept flying up and up until a plane smacked head-on into it.

"Jimmy, my lovely son," Mr. Nutrin's head said. "I am dying. Please come closer." Jimmy did just that. "Jimmy, I love you. I love you more than your mom ever did. I hated how she always did things for you and with you. So that is why I killed her. I wanted to do things with you and for you, and now I will never get that chance. Before I die, promise we will do more father-son bonding in the afterlife."

"I promise, Daddy," Jimmy said.

Mr. Nutrin blinked his eyes before he died. His head fell forward, nose pressed into his dead wife's cleavage.

Jimmy stood, staring at his dead parents. Then, he looked at his house. He could no longer stay here. He was an orphan. Child services would come and take him away, probably to put with a pair of foster parents. A foster father who did not want to do any father-son bonding, and a foster mother who would not get shot in the head when she wanted to make her child dinner.

He knew he had to leave this place.

Jimmy teleported from the living room to his bedroom, took out his backpack, and filled with all the accoutrements that he needed to survive wherever he went. Once it was filled, he teleported out to the backyard to his laboratory. His robot dog Goodard was sitting there, waiting for him.

"Come, Goodard," Jimmy said to him. "We have to go. My parents are deader than dead. If we don't go, I will be taken away, and you will become scrap."

The robot dog whizzed oil on the ground before he obediently followed his master out the lab door and to the street. It was only when Jimmy reached the end of the street that he turned around to view his house one final time.

Memories flooded his mind, memories that had nothing to do with homicidal fathers who wanted to bond with their sons, or mothers who got shot in the head, or pizzas that flew out and decapitated you. Jimmy stuck out his lower lip and stared up at the sky, listening to the police sirens in the distance.

After a moment, Jimmy bent down to pick up his dog. "I guess this is just another day in the life of Jimmy Nutrin," he said. "Gootah blast."

He then teleported away.

* * *

**Progress on other stories has been slow, so enjoy some surrealistic fanfics. **

**This is still to be continued. I will accept other ideas for this. It may be about 3 to 4 chapters long.**


	2. Jimmy in Gregory's Room

**Here is chapter 2. [floats away]**

* * *

Jimmy roamed the streets of Retralville for many hours, looking for anyone who would offer him a place to stay. He had tried to ask the parents of his two best friends, Carl and Shenn, if they would let him stay the night. To his great shock, their parents refused him without providing an explanation for their actions, and slammed the door in his face. This was the response he got for everyone he asked; they would tell him to go away, get lost, and shut the door in his face. By the time he'd had the last door shut on him, the sun had almost set.

It was dark now, and Jimmy decided to stay a few hours in a tavern in downtown Retralville. The bartender had been kind enough to offer the boy some free whiskey (given that he clean the bathrooms in return) before going to check on his other patrons.

Jimmy sipped carefully at his drink, contemplating over what to do next. He couldn't go back home, and he couldn't stay with his friends. If he went to stay at the school, the teachers would wonder what had happened to his parents, and when they found out the truth, he would unwillingly go into foster care.

"What can I do?" he wondered out loud. "I've nowhere to go."

"Need some help, kid?" a voice asked him. Jimmy looked up to find a tall man in a trench coat looking down at him. His face was mostly hidden by his fedora hat, a size too large for his possibly small head. Despite the negative vibes coming off him, Jimmy felt that he could trust this man.

"I guess," Jimmy replied. "I don't have a home to go to."

"You don't say." The man studied Jimmy Nutrin for a moment before he spoke again. "Listen, I can fix you with a place to stay. I got a friend, Gregory, who's looking for some boarders. Years ago, he tried to get himself famous, but the pilot that was filmed for his T.V. show was thought to be too scary for the little kids, so it never got aired. Since then, Gregory has been alone in his room, yearning for some company. He wanted to be loved and embraced, and the public never understood him."

Jimmy stared up at him. "Where does Gregory live?"

"I can take you to his place. I know where it is."

Jimmy was excited by the prospect of finally finding a home. "How long can you stay with Gregory?" he pressed on. "And how much is it to rent?"

"For as long as you'd like. And you don't need to worry about the rent; Gregory will let you stay for free." The man gestured towards the door. "Are you coming or not?"

Jimmy hopped to his feet. "Yes, I am! I'll see you outside." He teleported himself to the front of the tavern, where he had left his robot dog Goodord.

"Goodord, great news!" Jimmy said. "We've got a place to stay." The man in the trench coat came out. Jimmy pointed to him. "That suspicious-looking stranger was nice enough to set us up with someone who is looking for boarders. Our troubles are over after six long hours."

You would expect the dog to find something off about the man and try to warn his master. Nope! The robot dog immediately decided that he could trust the man the moment he came out of the tavern. The man in the trench coat, who introduced himself as Larry, led the boy and Goodord to his big black van, motioning for them to get in the back, which they did with no complaint. Once they were safely inside the back, Larry shut the door and drove away.

* * *

After an hour of riding in the car, Jimmy Nutrin felt the van come to a stop. Larry got out of the van and opened the doors to the back. "All right, kid," he said. "We're here."

"Thank you, Dad—er, Larry," Jimmy said quickly. A brief wave of sadness came over him, and he stared at the ground for a moment, only now realizing that he wasn't wearing any shoes. Broken glass and wood chips had stuck to the soles of his feet, causing them to bleed. Jimmy hoped that Gregory would have a nice pair of shoes for him.

"Something bugging you, kid?" Larry asked.

Jimmy looked up at him. A single tear rolled down his cheek. "I miss my mom and my daddy," he said sadly. "They're both dead. All my daddy wanted was to have some father-son bonding with me. And I was cruel to him, cruel to him, cruel to him."

"It's okay now," Larry assured him gruffly. "You'll be safe with Gregory, and Gregory will be safe with you. You two will be birds of a feather. Won't that be wonderful?"

"I guess so," Jimmy muttered.

Jimmy and Goodord climbed out of the van. Jimmy handed his backpack to Larry, who silently took it. Larry led the boy and his robot dog across the street, to where a large, two-story house was seated. It was very dark on this street, seeing how the Retralville council was too broke and stupid to think of putting up some street light on this road. It made it hard to see what the house really looked like. Jimmy squinted and saw a dim light glowing in one of the windows on the second floor of the house. Larry told him that that was Gregory's room.

"He never comes out," Larry added, sighing heavily. "Not since his disastrous attempt at being famous. I've had to do some of the menial work for him. Buy his food and clothing, get his dry cleaning, rent movies he liked, even brought over the prostitutes he paid to be with. But I'm certain that, with you living with him, he'll open up more."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate me," Jimmy said. He frowned, sticking out his lower lip. "Just out of curiosity, kind sir, but did anyone else try to live with Gregory?"

"Uh...well, no, actually," Larry said. He was lying, but Jimmy failed to realize this. "Now, come along, little boy. No more questions. Gregory is dying to meet you."

Larry led Jimmy up to the door. The man fished a key out of one of his coat pockets and used it to open the door. They stepped inside, and Jimmy was told to wait while Larry turned on the light. The hallway light flicked on; it was just as dim as the light upstairs.

Larry pointed to a flight of stairs leading up to the second floor. "I have to do something down here," he said. "Go meet Gregory. You and your dog."

Jimmy nodded. "Okay, Da—I mean, Larry," he said. He teleported himself and his dog to the second floor, right outside the room with the dim lighting.

"Is anybody in there?" Jimmy called, opening the door. Goodord followed him and ran to a corner of the room, where he took yet another whizz of oil.

Jimmy looked around the dim-lit room. The lighting was coming from a fire glowing in the fireplace. The room itself wasn't that big. It had a few chairs, a dresser, and a small bed. In front of a window was an armchair, and in that armchair was a person. Gregory.

Jimmy moved forward, eager to meet his new companion. But it only took a few moments for the person to turn his head around, and when he did, Jimmy blinked in surprise.

The person, Gregory, looked quite hideous. He was bald, with two large, gray-blue eyes, no nose, a pair of small ears, and a large, realistic human mouth. He wore a gray sweater and had a book in his lap.

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry," Gregory said kindly. His tone, though British-sounding, was monotonous. "I didn't hear you come in. Hello, I'm Gregory, and this is my room. Who are you, dear boy?"

"Jimmy Nutrin," Jimmy said. "Over there—" He pointed to where Goodord was still taking a leak. "—is my robotic dog, Goodord. Your friend Larry told me you were looking for boarders."

"Oh, he did?" Gregory smiled. "And are you here to stay?"

Jimmy nodded. "Yes, I'm here to stay."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Gregory clapped his long hands. "We're going to have so much fun together, Jimmy, just you and me. Do you like astronomy?" Jimmy nodded. "Good. We can sit and gaze at the stars together." He held up his book. "We can read a book together. Or we can stare into the glorious flames of the fireplace together." He turned to gaze at his fireplace, his eyes vacant.

Jimmy did not stare at the flames in the fireplace. He instead stared at Gregory. He hadn't been in this room for more than two minutes, and already, he was feeling a tickle of doubt in the pit of his stomach. Gregory needed company, which was what Larry told him. But what did Gregory have in mind for him?

And did anyone ever come to live with Gregory? If so, what became of them?

"Where are your parents?"

Jimmy blinked. Gregory was now staring at him once again, still smiling.

"They are dead," Jimmy said, feeling unsure of himself.

"Oh. I'm terribly sorry for your loss." Gregory didn't sound sorry. "Well, if that's the case, you are free to stay here, Jimmy. Forever and always."

"Thank you. That was—"

"No matter. You don't need parents. Not as long as I am here. It'll just be the two of us. Alone in this room, with Larry coming to visit every once in a while. No need for parents..."

Gregory suddenly had gone from being in the chair to being less than a foot from Jimmy.

"...no need for anybody. Just me and you, Jimmy. No parents. No police. No one can hear you." Gregory's mouth split wide into a creepy smile. "Let us have some bonding time, Jimmy. Embrace me, Jimmy."

Jimmy stared.

"I need love, Jimmy."

Jimmy didn't move. He swore he could hear music somewhere in the room. It seemed to echo in the small space.

"Gregory needs love, Jimmy."

Jimmy took a step back.

"GrEgOrY nEeDs LoVe, JiMmY."

Gregory moved even closer.

"BoNd WiTh Me, JiMmY."

It was too much for Jimmy.

"Goodord, get him!" Jimmy cried, pointing at Gregory, who licked his lips. "Quick, Goodord, come save me!"

The robot dog was quick to defend his master. In less than five seconds, Goodord had Gregory thrown across the room, battered and bruised. Gregory pushed himself up on his hands and knees. His eyes were locked on Jimmy Nutrin's form.

"Why do you want to hurt me, Jimmy?" Gregory asked pitifully. "I want love. I want to bond with you, Jimmy. That is all I want." Gregory's eyes narrowed. "But if you won't accept me, then I will make you love me. I will make sure you think about no one else but me. You won't ever leave this house, let alone this room, ever again. Do you hear me, Jimmy? I will make you mi—"

Jimmy had grabbed Goodord and had teleported out of the room at that moment. Gregory waddled over to the window to see the boy fleeing the house, his dog tucked under one arm. After a long moment, Gregory sighed and turned away.

"Oh, dear me," he said. "Another friend gone away. Why won't anyone love me?"

A knock came at the door just then. It was Larry. Gregory stared at Larry as he entered the room.

"Hello, Gregory," Larry said kindly. "I came to see how you and Jimmy were doing. Where is he?"

"He is gone, Larry. Another friend gone." Gregory sat back down in his armchair. "No one loves me, Larry. No one at all."

Larry stepped forward. "Well, Gregory, if it makes you feel better, I love you. You're just trying too hard."

"Trying too hard, Larry? Or not trying hard enough?" Larry stared out the window. "I could have done so many things with Jimmy, Larry. So many things! I wanted him to love me, to bond with me. And he fled into the night! He'll never return." Gregory sighed. Silence reigned in the room for a few more moments before the bug-eyed being spoke again.

"You said you loved me, didn't you Larry? Well, if you love me, you will have to prove it to me. Come to Gregory, Larry; Gregory needs your love."

* * *

Jimmy ran and teleported, teleported and ran. He did not stop until he was sure he was many miles away from creepy Gregory, and when he finally stopped, he found himself in a small, run-down neighborhood many miles away from Retralville. As it was late in the evening, no one was out at the moment.

Jimmy set Goodord down, and the robot dog ran ahead of him, oil still dripping from the ground. Jimmy trailed behind him, lower lip sticking out, staring off into the distance. He had failed to find a place to stay. Everyone he knew refused him, and the one stranger who'd been kind enough to provide shelter was just plain creepy.

Jimmy kept walking down the street until he grew too tired to even stand. He decided to lay down right where he stood. He lay on his back, looking up at the stars. He thought of his father and mother, and the fond memories they had together before this terrible day.

He could remember fishing in the toxic lake with his father, and all the mutated fish they caught that day before the acid burned a hole in their boat's underside. He could remember baking cookies with his mother, who was planning on giving it to some new neighbors, a family of fundamentalists who made it clear that they didn't like the family. She'd poured a bottle of arsenic on the unbaked cookies before putting them in the oven, and assuring him that they wouldn't be hearing from their new neighbors for a long time.

So many wonderful memories…why did they have to die?

Jimmy shed a single tear before he fell asleep with his eyes open. He didn't know what he would do tomorrow; he only hoped tomorrow would be better than today.


End file.
